It is also chilly here - not cold, just so windy that it sucks the heat out of everything
eta: the point being that if I did some chores I'd be warmer
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risque (and frisque), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
It is also chilly here - not cold, just so windy that it sucks the heat out of everything
eta: the point being that if I did some chores I'd be warmer
Yuck, sj. That is scary. Definitely stay home.
We're supposed to get 8-10 inches tonight. I think the boys' spring vacation is going to go an extra day, damn it.
Erin, there's always Sylvia Plath and Anne Sexton. That's about all I've got when it comes to suicidal poetry.
Erin, I presume you've already got Sylvia Plath, Ann Sexton and Stevie Smith bookmarked?
Ted Hughes' Crow has some very dark poems which certainly reflect back on suicide - though they are not themselves suicidal.
I had PLath and Sexton, but not Smith. See, already working! I'm also going to use some song lyrics.
Also, don't have to be suicidal, per se; just daaaarrrrkkkk.
Poe
Also, don't have to be suicidal, per se; just daaaarrrrkkkk.
Then Crow by Ted Hughes. None more dark.
It's the bleakest thing in bleakonia.
b Crow Blacker Than EverWhen God, disgusted with man, Turned towards heaven, And man, disgusted with God, Turned towards Eve, Things looked like falling apart.
But Crow Crow Crow nailed them together, Nailing heaven and earth together-
So man cried, but with God's voice. And God bled, but with man's blood.
Then heaven and earth creaked at the joint Which became gangrenous and stank- A horror beyond redemption.
The agony did not diminish.
Man could not be man nor God God.
The agony
Grew.
Crow
Grinned
Crying: "This is my Creation,"
Flying the black flag of himself.
Gahhh. It is so not midApril here. Too cold. However, it was nice to wake up and hear all the rain and snuggle up in bed. Except that meant I slept in waaaaay too late...didn't go eat brunch until 2pm!
Razors pain you;
Rivers are damp;
Acids stain you;
And drugs cause cramp.
Guns aren't lawful;
Nooses give;
Gas smells awful;
You might as well live.
JILLI -- I'm probably going to have a culminating activity -- Goth Poetry Day. I know, I know, but I have NO gothy kids at school, and if catering (mostly) to the stereotype gets 'em to read poetry, I'll happily do it. Can you suggest some good sites on What is Goth? Pix are great, and some toungue-in-cheek would be great! They love to be able to dress up and EMOTE.
Hmmmm. Let me do some poking around and get back to you (probably on Monday, because today is busybusybusy!)
I know there are a couple of online "goth poetry generators" which were hysterical.
yay! i just spent another 20 minutes cleaning the back room! ad I think I know the next step. If I can just get it so there is no more junk in there ( or at least no junk that is in the way ) I can clean clean tomorrow